Mocha and Galtero share the first Christmas with their baby Mia...sort of.

Christmas gift for  TiggyBloom that I did a while ago and just forgot to upload sooooooo yeah, here it is finally.

Enjoy! Merry Christmas in April!

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Galtero sat in a wooden chair just on the edge of the kitchen, one hoof on the tile and one hoof on the carpet of the living room. He sat forward, anxiously bouncing his right leg as his hoof made small clicking sounds against the hard kitchen floor. He held a coffee cup in both hands, half-empty and hanging down between his knees, the bouncing of his leg shaking the black, dark-roast inside of it. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, but he tended to go without whenever he was at home.

The stallion had pulled the chair away from the kitchen table and sat far on the edge, staring intently at the glittering, colorful glow of the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. He only dared to take his eyes away from it to glance at the clock on the microwave, counting the seconds until it was time. Frankly, it was sheer torture to be sitting there and waiting and he should have just gone back to bed, but Galtero knew the moment he opened his eyes three hours ago that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, even if he wanted to. He was wired with an electric excitement, but that also might have just been the coffee.
The evils of temptation began to creep into Galtero’s mind as he stared at the pile of gifts under the tree. Just one would be fine. Just one gift. Mocha wouldn’t mind, she’d understand. He could pick something small, like the little box he’d been sent by his aunt. It was almost surely a gift card or a pack of socks, something that wouldn’t be worth their time to open. It would just be a taste, just one thing to open. He could hide the gift wrap in the bottom of the trash, put the gift itself in a stocking and pretend he didn’t know it was there. He just needed one gift. One fix. Then he’d be alright.

Just as Galtero was about to succumb to his dark desires, his ears perked up and the sat upright at the quiet beeping tune coming from his cell phone. Without even turning it off, he spun in his chair and gazed at the clock, a wide grin splitting his face as he watched it change from 9:59 to 10:00. With one last sip of coffee, he set the mug down and leapt up from the chair before jogging back into the bedroom, his hooves making loud clopping sounds on the kitchen floor.
The bedroom was almost as dark at 10 AM as it was at 10 PM the night before. Somewhere in the quiet blackness was Mocha, curled up in a nest of blankets and still asleep. Galtero usually tried to do everything in his power to let his wife sleep as much as she wanted, especially given her condition, but he was too excited to let her sleep any longer. He needed to share the morning.

The tall stallion crawled onto the bed, feeling the mattress creak under his weight, and reached out a hand to feel for the warm lump of hair that was his wife. Mocha was still asleep, curled into a tiny shape on her left side with her back to him. She barely took up even a fourth of the bed, but always seemed to end up with all the blankets, anyway. Instead of tapping her or waking her, Galtero simply lay on his left side and gently pulled himself toward Mocha, spooning her and perfectly matching the curve of her body until there was no empty space between them. He nestled his head on her shoulder, even with a bundle of her brown hair in his face, and wrapped his arms around her.

“Mo,” he whispered into her ear while gently squeezing her bicep. “Mooooo-cha.” He let go of her arm and trailed his hand over her body, his fingers brushing against her breasts, which he was intimately familiar with, and the rounded bulge of her stomach, which he was still getting used to. “Baby…Baaaaby. Mama Mocha.” Galtero continued to mutter and whisper into the mare’s ear as it flicked in her sleep. “Are you in there?”
Galtero felt a shift under his hand and realized it came from inside his wife’s belly. A gentle nudge against his fingers told him that it was his daughter stirring against him.
“At least you’re awake,” Galtero whispered, pressing his hand to the sleeping Mocha’s belly and spreading his hands far apart. “C’mon, get kickin’ in there. Help me wake up your mom.”

Suddenly, Mocha made a sound in the back of her throat, then sighed deeply through her nose as sleep began to leave her gradually. She pulled her arm from beneath Galtero’s and scratched her scalp, between her ears, before making another sleepy groan.
“Mo?” Galtero asked, anxiously. “You up?”
“Hhhuuuuhhmmm?” Mocha mumbled. “Gultro?”
“Are you ready?” he whispered into her ear, sliding one arm beneath her.
“Ruhddy?” Mocha repeated, still groggy from sleep. She smacked her lips and turned to peek at her husband with one eye. “Ready?”
“Mocha,” Galtero trembled, barely able to contain his excitement. “It’s Christmas.”
“It’s Chris…” The mare blinked, her sleepy face barely visible in the dark. She then sighed and flopped back onto her side before breathing, “Chriiiiiistmaaaaas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Galtero said, sitting up to kiss the side of her face. Mocha didn’t move, but kissed the air with her eyes closed. Her husband appreciated the attempt.
“Merry Christmas,” Mocha said, her voice beginning to sound like her own again instead of an out-of-breath zombie. “What time is it?”

“The clock just hit ten,” Gal said. “Do you wanna sleep more?”
“Ten?” Mocha repeated, turning to look up at the ceiling while thinking. “No…Just gimme a little bit.” She slid her arm down over to where her belly was nestled beneath the sheets. “Mia was keeping me up last night.”
“She’s just excited,” Galtero said, tapping his fingers against Mocha’s stomach. “I can’t blame her.”
“How would she even know it’s Christmas?” Mocha asked, tucking her hand under the sheets to hold Galtero’s hand.
“Probably all those gingerbread cookies you’ve been eating,” Galtero teased, playfully poking a finger into Mocha’s chubby sides. The mare snorted and slapped his hand.
“I’m pregnant, I get to eat what I want,” she said with a huff.

“Of course you do,” Galtero said, smiling and wiggling his body closer to the soft, inviting body of his wife. Mocha, in turn, shifting back and allowed herself to sink into his arms, closing her eyes and sighing contently as she felt her husband’s broad, protective hands hold her round belly and the little foal he’d put inside it. A lock of her curly hair fell over her eyes, but she was too comfortable to even brush it out of the way.
“Mo?” she heard Galtero’s voice say.
“Hhggfff?” she grunted, blearily.
“You were snoring,” he said, shaking her gently by the shoulder. “I can let you sleep some more.”
“No…no no, I’m getting up,” Mocha sniffed, rubbing her face with the back of her hands. “It’s Christmas, I don’t wanna sleep all Christmas.”

She pulled her arms out from beneath the sheets and rolled over onto her back, her pregnant belly tenting the bedspread above her in a huge mound just below her chest. Mocha sighed as she rubbed her fingers over one eye and blinked up at the ceiling, her vision still blurry without her glasses. She felt something against her belly that she assumed was Mia getting comfortable in her womb, but suddenly realized it was Galtero’s hand, his two fingers ‘walking’ over her protruding stomach.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m climbing Mount Mocha,” Galtero said, sounding very pleased with himself. Mocha, perhaps slightly sleep-deprived, actually laughed at his stupid joke, making her belly shake beneath the bedspread. Galtero made his little ‘mountain climber’ wobble unsteadily before ‘falling’ in slow motion down the slope of her pregnant belly and landing in her cleavage.
“More like ‘Mount Mia,’” Mocha said, patting the sides of her tummy. “She’s getting big in there.”
“She’s the giant under the mountain,” Galtero explained, exploring his palm over Mocha’s belly until he found a spot where Mia was moving. “She causes earthquakes when she moves.”
“She is a giant,” Mocha sighed, trying to look around her colossal mound of a baby bump. She wasn’t due for another three months, but she was already carrying larger than some women at full-term. “That’s all you, by the way. My whole family is teeny-tiny like me.”
“Yeahhhhh, you’re probably right,” Galtero said, pinning his ears back guiltily. “Sorry.” Mocha rolled her eyes and smirked while jabbing a finger into the stallion’s bare chest.

“I will never. Ever. Ever. Forgive you.” She poked him again after each word, for emphasis.
“If only I could make it up to you somehow,” Galtero sighed wistfully, patting her stomach. “I guess I’ll just be forced to help raise her.”
“You’ll be my servant forever and ever,” Mocha said.
“We both know I already am.”

Mocha giggled and pinched his cheek before yawning and settling back into the pillow. A thought crossed her sleepy mind and she raised an eyebrow.
“Hey Gal?” she asked. “Is this Mia’s first Christmas?”
“I mean, yeah,” he answered, rubbing Mocha’s belly. “She wasn’t there last year, was she?”
“Well no, but that’s not what I mean,” Mocha explained. “What I mean is…is this her first Christmas, even though she isn’t technically here yet? Or will next year be her first?”
“…Huh,” Galtero pondered, scratching his white mane between his ears. “I mean…I don’t know. It’s kind of her first because she didn’t even really exist until now…But it would be weird when she’s born and we act like it’s her second Christmas.”
“I’m too tired for this,” Mocha groaned, turning over and burying her face in Galtero’s chest.
“But you’re the one that brought it up.”

“I know, and I regret it,” she sighed, wiggling in the bed slightly to get comfortable. Having her heavy, pregnant belly pressing on her hips too hard was cutting circulation off to her legs.
“Then let’s say this is a…practice Christmas,” Galtero suggested with a shrug.
“Okay. Practice Christmas,” Mocha nodded while holding her belly. “Got it.” She backed away from Galtero’s chest and looked up at him for a silent moment before sitting up to kiss him. They did it again, a second time, with a little more tongue than the first.

“Blegh,” Mocha spluttered as she backed away and spat. “Coffee breath.”
“I thought you liked coffee,” Galtero said, breathing into his palm before smelling it.
“Not after you drink it!” Mocha said, smacking her lips with a look of disgust on her face.
“Well,” Galtero said with a smirk, “at least now you’re awake.”
“Yeah, in the worst way possible,” Mocha pouted. She sat up in bed with an uncomfortable grunt as she tried to maneuver around her belly. “I wish I could have coffee…”
“You can have tea,” Galtero offered. Mocha scoffed.
“My name isn’t ‘Tea,’ though.”
“I surprised you didn’t want to name our baby ‘Espresso,’” Galtero teased. He kissed his grumpy, tired, pregnant wife on the cheek before rolling out of bed, bouncing her as the mattress shook. “I’ll make you some tea, then.”

Mocha watched him leave the bedroom as a slice of sunlight cut through the darkness from the open door. In the dim light, she tossed aside the bedspread and blinked down at her exposed belly. Her old, comfortable pajama shirt had once been long enough to go down to her knees, but her growing stomach had filled out the extra space. She had no idea what it would look like by the time she was actually full term, but assumed it wouldn’t look much like a shirt anymore. It frequently rode up over her bump while she was sleeping, leaving it exposed to the cold air and making her even more reluctant to get out of bed.
Mocha pulled her legs out from beneath the covers and let them dangle over the side of the bed as she sat up, tugging her shirt down over her stomach. She kicked her legs in the air for a moment, her hooves bouncing against the mattress, before suddenly feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest and a smile creeping onto her face. It was Christmas morning. It wasn’t the time to spend half the day sleeping, whether she wanted to or not. For once, she felt giddy in the morning and quickly hopped down onto her sore hooves before hurrying across the room to get dressed.

Galtero was in the kitchen, standing over the stove with a covered pot boiling on it. The strings from a handful of teabags trailed out from beneath the lid, leaving him anxious to check whether he’d picked the same tea for each bag. An electric kettle would have been easier to use, but was a luxury they didn’t have the extra money to buy. Maybe next Christmas, if Mocha somehow developed a taste for tea after the pregnancy.
Galtero’s ears swiveled toward the door behind him at the sound of hooves clopping against the kitchen tile. The good thing about living in a home with another horse was that it was very hard to sneak up on someone. He glanced around as Mocha walked up beside him, barely standing at the height of his shoulder, and cocked his head at her outfit. Mocha wore a pair of soft, plaid pajama pants that were loose like bell-bottoms around her hooves, and a green shirt Galtero had never seen before. It was a long-sleeve maternity top patterned like a Christmas sweater. In ornate font, it read ‘Santa’s Newest Elf’ directly over her protruding belly.
“Where’d that come from?”

“Got it at the mall last week,” Mocha said, pulling it tight around her belly. “I thought it was cute at the time but…well, it’s a little stupid now that I look at it again.”
“I mean…” Galtero paused, scratching his chin. “I think it’s kind of cute and stupid.”
“Just like you,” Mocha teased. She shuffled closer to the stove, her belly pressing against the counter, and lifted the pot lid to smell the tea brewing beneath it. “It smells nice…”
“I thought you didn’t like tea very much,” Galtero said.
“I like the way it smells. I just don’t like that it all tastes like hot water unless you add stuff to it.” Mocha snapped her fingers, remembering something, before she waddled across the room to the refrigerator. Galtero watched her go with amusement. She’d always had a bit of a distinctive swagger to her step from being so short, but the pregnancy had made her practically waddle like a penguin, which was always entertaining to watch.
“Is it ready?” Mocha asked, returning with a bottle of honey and mug with a small spoon inside.

“I think so,” Galtero said, anxiously putting aside the lid and pulling the teabags out of the oak-brown water. He took the mug from her hands and set it down on the counter. After turning off the burner, he lifted the pot of tea with both hands and held it precariously over the small mug, like a target.
“Oh no,” Mocha groaned, shaking her head as she watched what her husband was about to do. “No. Gal. No, I’ll get a- We can use a bowl or something.”
“I got it,” he said, carefully tipping the pot over the mug and clenching his teeth as the tea neared the lip. “I got it.”
“No, no, no. Gal. Just hang on.” Mocha hissed through her teeth and gripped her hair as tea began to dribble from the edge of the pot and onto the counter behind the mug. “Oh my God. Gal. Stop.”
“I got it.” Galtero began to tip the pot further over until the tea actually poured. Much of it fell into the mug, but as he tilted it farther, the spout of liquid spread farther apart than the width of the mug and splashed against the counter. “Shit. Agh, hang on. Fuck. I got it. I got it.” Mocha didn’t say anything, but watched in tense horror while clenching her fists in the air.
Finally, the mug was filled to the brim with tea, despite more than half the pot ending up on the counter and floor. Galtero breathed for what felt like the first time in hours as he sighed and put the pot aside before carefully passing Mocha the mug of tea.

“Here ya go,” he said.
“That was like watching a car crash,” Mocha breathed, gripping the wet mug with both hands.
“…I’ll clean this up,” Galtero said sheepishly as he tore off a roll of paper towels. As he wiped up the mess, Mocha carried the tea to the counter and set the mug down so she could squeeze a few tablespoons of honey into it before stirring it all in. She took a sip, frowned, then added more. Once the tea was sufficiently sweet enough for her, Mocha sipped it carefully and sighed in satisfaction with one hand resting on her belly. Even though she preferred coffee, the satisfying feeling of a hot drink was all she really wanted in the morning, and she could feel her entire body warming from the inside.
Galtero hopped up from behind the counter with two handfuls of wet, brown paper towels and tossed them into the nearest trashcan.

“How is it?” he asked, pointing to the mug. Mocha glanced down at it and felt it would be cruel to tell him it was more honey than tea at that point.
“Really good,” Mocha smiled. “But just use a funnel next time, okay?”
“Good idea,” Galtero said, wiping off his wet hands over his chest.
The two of them were silent while Mocha drank her tea. Galtero seemed anxious, hovering around the kitchen and cleaning little spots barely worth notice just to keep busy while otherwise pacing on his hooves.
“Gal?” Mocha asked. “Babe, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he answered shortly, finally coming to a stop next to the counter. “What do you want to do next?”
“Well…” Mocha paused, rubbing her belly while thinking, “I’m feeling a little hungry. I’d love if we could make something to eat. Maybe have a nice Christmas breakfast or something.” As she finished, Mocha watched Galtero shift uncomfortably. Even as he smiled at her, she watched his eyes glance toward the living room. She followed his gaze until her eyes landed on the Christmas tree. Mocha smiled knowingly and stirred her spoon into her tea.
“Or…” she answered slowly, “we could do that after opening presents.”

Galtero lit up like sunlight and quickly galloped into the living room. He dropped to his knees next to the tree with a loud thunk and began carefully dividing up the presents into piles for either of them. Mocha waddled after him with her mug in hand, then grunted and sat on the ground next to her pile of gifts, leaning back slightly to accommodate her belly.
“I can get you a chair,” Galtero asked, watching with concern as she struggled to get comfortable beneath her pregnant body.
“Nah, I’m fine,” Mocha waved her hand, grunting softly as she crossed her legs and sat up enough that her belly settled into her lap. “When you’re short, sitting on the floor isn’t a big deal since you’re so close to the ground anyway.”
“I guess,” Galtero shrugged, noting the way his long legs were splayed out in a V-shape in front of him. He tossed his mane and excitedly cracked his knuckles while staring hungrily at the pile of gifts in front of him. “Oh-kay! Should we start with the small stuff and work up? Or with the lame little stuff and leave the big ones for last?”

“You don’t know the little stuff is lame,” Mocha protested, picking up a small, gift wrapped box with a bow taped to the top and turning it in her fingers.
“I don’t?” Galtero snorted, then reached across the pile and picked up a small, rectangular gift with his name on it. “This one’s from my Aunt Rosa.” He flipped it over and tore the thin scotch tape holding the wrapping paper together, then opened it up to find a small onesie for a baby with the seal of the University of Austin printed on the front and a card behind it, which Galtero thumbed open before passing Mocha the onesie.
“Well this is…this is cute,” Mocha said, cocking her head to the side and holding up the baby clothes. “I don’t know about the college logo, though…”
“It’s only because she works for the school,” Galtero sighed, rolling his eyes as he held up the card. “This is a ‘Legacy Certificate’ for Mia to join the same sorority Aunt Rosa went to.” When he leaned over to hand Mocha the card, she draped the onesie over her belly to free up her hands before taking it.

“Uhh…well this isn’t lame!” Mocha said, defensively. She glanced up at Galtero’s skeptical face, then sighed and set the card down. “Okay, it does kind of suck. But the thought counts, right?”
“We both know this is more about her than Mia,” Galtero said, frowning. “She’s not even out of you yet, who knows what college she’ll wanna go to in eighteen years?”
“Well we can always use new clothes,” Mocha said, setting the onesie and the card aside while trying to find something positive to say to hide her own slight disappointment. As Galtero reached for another box, Mocha snapped her fingers and pointed at her husband. “Uh-uh, nope, you opened one. It’s my turn now.”
“But I opened a bad one,” Galtero pouted.

“Too bad, better luck next time,” Mocha smirked before reaching for a medium-sized box. As she set it aside to open, she glanced up at a small pile of gifts not divided into her and Galtero’s respective piles. “What about those?”
“Oh, these are all signed for Mia,” he shrugged. “I just sort of gave them their own pile.”
“Oh, good. I bet she can’t wait to open them,” Mocha answered sarcastically while raising an eyebrow. Galtero leaned over and picked up a small gift from the pile, then reached over and pressed it to Mocha’s belly. He made a frustrated huff as he tapped the box against his wife’s middle.
“Ugh, look,” he said in mock irritation. “She doesn’t even care.”

Mocha chuckled at Galtero’s joke, then brushed his hand aside and set to work unwrapping the box at her side. Unlike her husband, who had unfolded his gift and kept the wrapping mostly intact, Mocha ferociously tore apart the gift wrap in a flurry of destruction while she grinned in chaotic joy, green paper raining down over them like snow. In the middle of the carnage sat a white box with a picture of some kind of medical instrument on the side, but flipped upside-down. Mocha cocked her head curiously at the gift, then flipped it over and held it in her lap. She quickly pinned her ears back as her eyes widened. She giggled in anxious embarrassment and blushed while putting the box aside.

“It’s…uhh...ahehehehe…one of those…um…for my…” Mocha stammered while pointing to the gift. Galtero spun it to face him and blinked at the packaging; it was a collection of tubes, bottles, and pumps for harvesting breast milk.
“Ohhhh,” he nodded. “For your ‘booby juice.’”
“Gal!” Mocha shouted, blushing even harder and whipping her tail. “Don’t call it that!”
“No, this is good. This’ll be really useful,” Galtero said, turning the box in his hands. “Who is this from?”
“Uhhh…” Mocha pulled her hands away from her face and glanced down at the torn remnants of the wrapping paper. “…I don’t know. I forgot to check.”
“Oh. Well uhhh,” Galtero shrugged and pushed the box back to Mocha. “Thanks to whoever that was.”
“Sorry,” Mocha said. “I got excited. I like opening stuff.”
“My turn,” Galtero said, pulling a box toward him and carefully unfolding the paper.

The pair of them open gifts back and forth, making sure to note who had given them what. But, ultimately, it didn’t make much of a difference since every last gift was something for the baby. From toys and pacifiers to supplies like diapers and bottles, each gift, even the ones addressed to Mocha or Galtero specifically, was something to prepare for the birth of their foal.
As Mocha tore open the last box in her pile, she didn’t have the same excitement she did earlier and simply pulled the wrapping paper apart with a slight frown on her face.
“Oh. Well, this is cute!” she said in forced excitement as she held up a space-themed mobile to eventually hang over Mia’s crib. “I like the rocket ships. Maybe we can put space stuff in the nursery.”
“Here’s some more pacifiers,” Galtero said flatly, not even bothering to hide his disappointment. “And some bows.”
“Good,” Mocha nodded, pushing the mobile aside. “We’ll need those...”
The two parents-to-be sat in the pile of baby supplies with dejected looks on their faces. Mocha rubbed her hands over her belly, feeling the little foal wiggling inside her. Mia didn’t even know the kind of haul she’d just pulled in.
“You’re kind of put out, huh?” Galtero asked, raising an eyebrow. Mocha poked at her belly where Mia was kicking and opened her mouth, but hesitated before speaking.

“Yeah…” Mocha shrugged. “I don’t wanna be. This is all stuff we need and it’s good we have it. But…” She picked up a package of baby bottles and turned them in her hands idly. “This is stuff for the baby shower next month, right? It’s Christmas. I wanted at least a few things for me…” She sighed and put the box down before wrapping her arms around her stomach. “But maybe that’s selfish.”
“I don’t think that’s selfish,” Galtero said. With a low grunt, he pushed himself up to his knees and crawled behind the tree. Mocha watched curiously as his tail whipped in the air behind him before he emerged with two boxes beneath his arms and a gift bag clenched in his teeth.
“Bleh,” he said while dropping the bag from his mouth before pushing the gifts toward Mocha with a sly smile. “Here. These are from me.”

“Gal!” Mocha breathed, shuffling forward on her hands and knees to examine the gifts.
“I kinda thought we’d mostly get baby stuff this year,” Galtero said, feeling a little proud of himself for thinking ahead. “So I wanted to make sure I got you some gifts that aren’t baby-related.”
“Oh my God, Gal. You are just so perfect,” Mocha sighed, her eyes shining with joy as she glanced up at her husband.
“Only a little bit,” Galtero shrugged, but he blushed and wiggled his ears bashfully. “But don’t say that ‘til you open them.”
Mocha pulled the biggest box toward her and smiled devilishly as she ripped the gift wrap to shreds. When she realized what it was, she held it up and gasped and stared up at Galtero.

“A new cake set?” Mocha squealed, turning the box around. It was a professional-grade baking set with three different kinds of cake molds, a cupcake tray, re-useable icing tubes with swappable tips, brushes, spatulas, pans, and even an electric mixer. She set down the box and smirked up at Galtero suspiciously. “Are you sure this isn’t mostly a gift for you?”
“Well, I can’t say I won’t benefit,” the stallion shrugged, “but you eat twice the cake I do, anyway.”
“I think Mia’s been making crave pound cake lately,” Mocha said, licking her lips while holding her belly. “God, I’ll never lose this baby weight now. Thanks a lot, Gal.”
“That’s fine, I like you chubby,” Galtero said, smiling as Mocha blushed again and ducked her head below her hair. “You like it?”
“I love it,” Mocha beamed, thumbing her hair aside. “I’ll make a cake for the baby shower and learn how to decorate and everything.”

“Good. That was the big one,” Galtero said, before gesturing to the other two gifts. Mocha pulled the second, smaller box into her lap and ripped into it excitedly. Inside of a cardboard box was a stack of four large books and a huge set of colored pencils. Mocha picked them up and started flipping through them with a mesmerized look on her face.
“Adult coloring books?” Mocha said, holding them up.
“You loved the one you had before,” Galtero shrugged. “There’s one themed around, like, Japanese art and another with, like, Renaissance art.” He scratched the back of his head and said, “Thought you might get a kick out of those.”
“It sounds stupid,” Mocha said, smiling self-consciously. “But I can’t wait to start on these.”
“That’s not stupid. Maybe you and Mia can color together once she gets here.”
The idea made the pregnant mare beam with excitement and she hugged the books to her chest and giggled, excited to already have something to share with her daughter before she was even born. As Mocha glanced to the remaining gift bag, her expression sank and she sighed quietly.
“What?” Galtero asked, sitting up. “What’s wrong? Did I-”
“No Gal, you did great,” Mocha said, rubbing her arm with a frown. “It’s me. I got you some little stuff, but nothing like this. I feel kind of bad about it. I should have started shopping earlier.”

“Mo…C’mon, don’t think like that,” Galtero said. He crawled closer to his wife and raised her head to look into her eyes. “I would’ve gotten you this stuff if you didn’t get me anything because I want you to be happy. It’s Christmas and I love you.” He glanced down at her round belly, settled down in her lap, and smiled as he reached out and pressed his hand to her soft middle. “And this is the only gift I want to unwrap. She’s the only thing I want.”
Mocha felt a lump in her throat and she glanced away and rubbed her eyes to keep from tearing up. She hadn’t even been awake an hour yet and Gal was already going to make her cry. Mia shuffled in her womb against her husband’s hand. In response, he lowered his head down to her belly and kissed it gently before backing away.
“C’mon, there’s still one more,” he said, pushing the gift bag toward her. “Sorry you can’t rip the shit out of this one.”
“Who says I can’t?” Mocha said, sniffing away happy tears and pulling gift tissue out of the bag. As soon as she peeked inside, Mocha gasped in shock before turning the bag over and spilling out a collection of black tubes, jars, bags, and bars of soap.

“LUSH!” Mocha screamed in delight, gathering up the packages of cream in her arms. She unscrewed the nearest jar of lotion and held it up to her nose to smell, her eyelids fluttering in bliss at the scent.
“They had a big gift bag of stuff, but I tried to remember what you got last time,” Galtero said. He reached over and pinched a lock of her long, flowing mane. “...Mostly hair stuff.”
Mocha quickly gathered up all the lush products and tossed them back into the bag they came in. She rolled onto her back and braced a hand beneath her belly before awkwardly climbing to her hooves.
“Gal,” she pleaded excitedly while bouncing up and down, “Can I use these now? Please? Can I go take a bath?”
“You want a bath?” Galtero asked, raising an eyebrow. “At ten-thirty on Christmas morning?”

“I want baths all. The. Time.” Mocha answered, clapping with her words for emphasis. “And I feel dirty anyway. I wanna use this bath bomb!” She fished into the bag and held up a pink and blue globe. “It smells like bubblegum.”
“I mean…I can’t really stop you, I guess,” Galtero shrugged, chuckling slightly. A moment later, Mocha was hurriedly waddling toward the bedroom and tugging down her pajama pants. Her husband watched her go with an amused smirk. He took a moment to gather together all the baby gifts before following after her as the groan of pipes and running water began to rumble from the bathroom.
As he entered the bedroom with his hands in his pockets, Mocha waddled out of the bathroom and pulled off her shirt, her heavy, unconstrained breasts spilling out over her shapely, fertile belly. Galtero froze at the sight of her naked body, as he always did.

“There’s a gift for you in the closet,” she said, pointing to the door to Gal’s left. “A couple. They’re small, though.” She sauntered her plush, inviting body toward him and pressed her breasts against his torso. “I’ll give you your big gift later tonight.” She turned and trotted away into the bathroom, swishing her tail aside to give her husband a clear look at her ass before she vanished around the corner. Galtero swallowed and felt the blood rush to his face.
While Mocha got her bath ready, Gal went to the closet and flipped on the dying light bulb to look for his gift.
“Where is it?” he called into the bathroom.
“In the shoebox!” Mocha’s voice echoed back. As he found it and took it from the shelf, she added, “I don’t know how you didn’t find it! We don’t wear shoes!”

Galtero paused and glanced from the empty shoebox to his hooves. She was right. The box had been there for at least a week, but he’d barely registered its presence. The first thing in the box was a video game he’d been talking about getting for weeks, but hadn’t had the time or the extra money to do it. He swished his tail and grinned like an excited teenager again before setting it aside. Beneath it was a huge, green shirt with white text printed on it. He unfolded it and held it up to read the text before grinning from ear-to-ear and immediately putting it on.
Mocha stood naked next to the tub with her bath-bomb in hand like a softball, her hand stroking her bare belly as she excitedly waited for the water to fill high enough to drop the bomb in. At the sound of hooves, she turned around and broke into a giggling fit at the sight of Galtero in his new shirt. It was an extra-large, but still stretched tightly over his muscular torso. The text centered in the middle of his chest read ‘THIS IS WHAT A DAD BOD LOOKS LIKE.’

“You like it?” Mocha asked during a break in her laughter.
“I will never wear another shirt ever again,” Galtero said proudly, flexing to show off his ‘Dad Bod’.

Once the bath was high enough and the bath bomb fully dissolved, Mocha carefully lowered herself into the hot water with a deep, euphoric sigh. The water itself had turned a shade of pink and smelled like cotton candy, fizzing slightly when Mocha moved her arms through it. Galtero sat on the bathmat next to the tub, leaning on his arms while watching her contentedly. He glanced aside at her coffee-colored belly as it protruded above the water line.
“It used to be Mount Mocha,” he said, poking her pregnant belly. “But now it’s Mocha Island.”
“Tropical vacation spot,” Mocha smirked, rubbing her wet palm over her round bump. “It’s popular with kids.”
“Maybe just one kid,” Galtero said. He raised his eyebrows as Mia began to shift and turn inside Mocha’s belly enough to push out and distort its shape. “Whoa, holy shit.”

“She does that all the time,” Mocha giggled, putting a hand to her stomach as Mia elbowed out into her palm. “Especially in the bath. I think she liked the water.” She sighed and settled farther down in the bath, moaning in the back of her throat and closing her eyes. “God, this is nice…”
“She’s a kicker,” Galtero smiled, touching a finger to Mocha’s belly and trying to follow where Mia’s hooves were pressing out. He rested his head on his arms and silently watched his wife’s foal-heavy stomach bounce and shift with the excited movements of his daughter.

“I can’t wait for her to be here,” he said quietly. “But I’m glad we can have at least one more Christmas to ourselves.” Mocha didn’t answer. Galtero glanced aside and saw that his wife had very quickly fallen asleep in the bath, her head, resting on her shoulder and her hands floating just below her breasts. Gal blinked and noted with an amused smile that, although Mocha was fast asleep, Mia was still just as actively kicking and squirming inside her. He kept an eye on Mocha to make sure her head didn’t slip under the water, then gently placed a hand on her belly, just above his unborn daughter.

“Practice Christmas,” Galtero whispered to the baby. “Next year will be the real thing.”